


Background Bros

by Naeshira



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naeshira/pseuds/Naeshira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few prompts for Ollie and Wicks that I've had on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nostalgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from headspacedeficit: (Headcannon) Little known fact: Wicks gets nostalgic and homesick for Maid-Rite, not that he'd ever admit it. But he gets this look on his face and a certain kind of lackluster-ness to his fist bumps that Ollie can't stand. Another little known fact: Ollie makes a pretty decent ground beef sandwich.

“Wicksy?” Ollie dumped his backpack onto a seat and sat down across from his friend. 

Wicks was sadly chewing a dining hall burger and barely poking at his fries. The bags under his eyes looked deeper than usual, and he was slumped so low in his seat he barely had to lift the burger to reach his mouth. “Hmm?” 

Ollie just rose his eyebrows. “You okay?” 

“Fine.” Wicks shrugged.

Ollie let him sit for a moment before declaring, “Bullshit.” 

Wicks sighed and then gestured with his burger. He made a face and took a bite. 

Oh. Duh. He was homesick for good food. Ollie vaguely remembered Wicks doing this last year too, and demanding they drive almost an hour away from campus to get Steak ‘n Shake. 

Ollie made a sympathetic noise and pressed his foot against Wicks’ under the table before pulling out his phone. He needed google. And to get Holster’s permission to man the grill at the next SMH Haus Cookout. 

~~

“Shit, Ollie, who knew you could cook!” Ransom excitedly held out his paper plate, and Ollie scooped a pile of ground beef onto a bun. 

Holster stood nearby, beer in hand, almost as watchful of his grill as Bitty was of his oven. Ollie scooped more beef out of his pan and loaded up another bun for him. 

Before he knew it, almost the whole team was fed, and Bitty had employed the frogs in pulling pies from the kitchen. 

Wicks had been hovering by the grill for a while, but now he slid up next to Ollie, loading up his own plate with a fourth burger. 

“Good?” Ollie asked, and he knew Wicks knew he meant more than just the burger.

Wicks smiled. He balanced his beer and his plate on one hand, and stuck the other out for a fist bump. “S’wawesome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor homesick sophomore. I had no idea what Maid-Rite is, so I had to look it up, lol.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from thatfamoushappyending: Tell us about Ollie & Wicks' first Haus party?

Ollie doesn’t remember it. Neither does Wicks. They both wake up, passed out against a wall in the kitchen, Samwell fleece blankets haphazardly thrown over their legs and a sticky note that said “ _Drink some Gatorade. Fictional hangovers are both exaggerated and misunderstood. Stay s’wawesome. - J.J._ ” 

Bitty had at least made it to the couch in the den, but he had left behind at least three empty pie plates.

Ollie is pretty sure he devoured one of those pies himself. He also lost his hat somewhere, and that bums him out. His phone has three unread texts because he missed a study group that morning, and judging by the incriminating photos on Wicks’ phone, he doesn’t wanna look through his own recent pictures. And his head hurts.

Wicks is the first to see Shitty come striding through the kitchen, boxer-clad and far too awake for how much he was drinking last night. He is also the first to see the bottle of water flying at him from the fridge, and he barely moves his arms to keep it from smacking into his chest. Ollie isn’t so lucky and slides further down the wall with a grunt. 

Shitty looks over the two of them with his hands on his hips, “Looks like you frogs need a pick-me-up! Time for a patented Shitty Knight Hangover Breakfast!”

Wicks is not too hungover to appreciate the pun. Ollie is. And he can’t tell if he feels sick or hungry at the idea of food. 

That morning becomes the first time either of them associate the Haus kitchen with the ideas of team, and food, and together.

That was also the morning they decided to buddy-system. Someone needs to be somewhat sober. At least to keep drunk Bitty off the couch, because the screech he let out when he woke up was positively deafening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad a writing parties, so here's the morning after, lol.


	3. Experimenting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from an Anonymous: Ollie and Wicks experiment.

“Okay, are we doing this with pads or no pads?” Wicks dropped his hockey bag on the bench and looked out at the empty ice rink. 

“No pads? I think we’ll go further without them.” Ollie answered, scribbling something in the notebook he’d brought with them.

Wicks nodded and started to pull his skates from his bag. Ollie was still writing by the time he’d laced up, so he jumped over the boards and skated a few laps to warm up. It was always sort of freeing, skating around without hockey gear on. It felt nice. S’wawesome, even. 

“Bro, hurry up,” Wicks called, gliding to the bench, where Ollie was finally donning his own skates. 

“I was making science, bro.” Ollie answered, waving vaguely at the notebook. It had a labeled table and empty columns sketched out in blue pen.

Wicks leaned on the boards. “You’ve been hanging around Ransom too much,” he commented.

“You should try it, might get your grades up.” Ollie finished tying his laces and pulled the cuffs of his jeans back down over the tops of his skates. 

“Hah. Get on the ice, fucker.” Wicks grinned and pulled open the door. 

“You first? Stomach or back?” Ollie staked away to the furthest end of the rink, notebook in hand. 

“Stomach. I’ll get it over with.” Wicks took his place against the boards, waiting for Ollie’s nod, before he took off, skating as fast as he could for the blue line. Once there, he dove, landing on his stomach, and slid.

Ollie skated after him with a tape measure. “You hit the center line! Wanna see if you can make it further?” 

~

For about an hour, they took turns freezing themselves on the ice and laughing at each other. Halfway through, they switched from sliding on their stomachs to their backs. Finally, shivering, they returned to the bench to sort out the data. 

Wicks pulled off his hoodie, only to find the back of his t-shirt had gotten wet from the ice as well. He pulled it off too, and quickly grabbed the extra sweater he’d brought for exactly this reason. “So who won?”

“Uh. Not me?” Ollie dropped the notebook to the bench before changing his own sweater. “It’s funny, I slid further on my back, you slid further on your stomach.” 

Wicks stuck out his chest and preened. “It’s my hockey ass. It causes drag.” 

Ollie snorted. “Sure Wicksy. Same way my abs were slowing me down.” 

“Exactly.” Wicks held out his fist for a bump. “Think we can skip out of work-out today? Call this extra practice time?”

Ollie quickly wrote down a summary of his conclusions before juggling his stuff around to get a free hand to punch Wicks’ fist. “We should try. I might die if Jack decides it’s leg day.” 

“Bro. Can’t skip leg day.” Wicks pulled his hat from his bag and slapped it onto his head before standing and waiting for Ollie. 

“Wicksy, we play hockey. Every day is leg day.” 

Wicks just laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omigosh, there's so much more dialogue in this one? Even after I cut it down to bare bones. Yeah, anyway. Hope it fit!


End file.
